


forgiveness

by bazzaya



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Crimson Flower, F!Byleth, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 03:36:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20333401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bazzaya/pseuds/bazzaya
Summary: Most people ask their lover’s father for his blessing.Edelgard asks for forgiveness.





	forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> :)

Even if the end of the war is only the beginning, there's at least a brief period of time for rest, however fleeting it may be.

When Edelgard goes to the Goddess Tower after she and the others return to Garreg Mach, she doesn't expect to be visited by Byleth.

The last thing she expects is to suddenly discover that those feelings she harbored for so long— that _ longing _ she felt— Byleth returned them; she had felt the _ same_.

And yet, the unexpected happens, and Edelgard finds herself staring at Byleth with the widest grin she's mustered in a long time, bathed in the warm glow of the sunset, her hand in Byleth’s.

Edelgard takes a step closer, and she looks down at their hands together. She watches as Byleth prepares to slide the ring on her finger, and she bites down on her lip, something overcoming her in that moment.

“Wait,” Edelgard says suddenly, her voice almost a stammer. She can feel a pit of nervousness pooling in her stomach, and yet there's something compelling her to continue anyways, a desire to be open overwhelming that fear inside of her. She pulls her hand out of Byleth’s grasp, and she clenches her jaw to muster her courage. Tugging at one of the fingers of her glove, she pulls the glove off her hand.

At first, Edelgard keeps her hand curled towards her, but she takes that final leap away from her fear, and offers Byleth her bare hand, the slightest tremor in her fingers to have her scars out in the open. “I want to do this right,” she says softly, looking up at Byleth with a smile.

Byleth returns the grin and slides the ring onto Edelgard’s finger. But before she lets go, she gently lifts Edelgard’s hand to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles, right over one of the scars. Edelgard feels her chest swell at the gesture, and her cheeks redden from a slight fluster.

Her professor, always the tease, always one to do the absolute most if it means bringing a reaction out of the usually composed Edelgard.

And yet, nothing in the world could make Edelgard feel more at ease than to have Byleth comfort her so.

Edelgard threads her fingers with Byleth once the ring rests on her finger, and she glances at their joined hands, a warm smile on her lips. “This is such a lovely ring, my teacher… I’ll wear it proudly.”

Byleth flashes a smile too. “It was my father's,” she says. “He told me to give it to the person I loved as much as he loved my mother.”

Edelgard’s expression softens, and she feels a warmth burst in her chest to hear those words. She's touched, to be honored with such a gift, and to be blessed with such love, and yet…

Her words returning Byleth’s confession catch in her throat. The mention of Jeralt causes old memories to surface, old feelings of guilt, and suddenly Edelgard if she's worthy to proclaim her love when she feels as if his blood is on her hands.

The ring on her finger suddenly burns against her skin, but she swallows down that brief wave of emotion. She forces a smile, one not quite reaching her eyes, and she leans forward, resting her forehead against Byleth’s. “Thank you. It means more than I can say.”

Squeezing Edelgard’s hand, Byleth savors the feeling of their foreheads together before she eventually pulls back. The sunset from before has faded, leaving the sky a brilliant navy blue, and painted with stars. “Can we stay for a little while? Watch the stars?”

“Of course,” Edelgard’s smile returns, and she leads Byleth by the hand towards the edge of the balcony. She rested her arms on the railing, never letting go of Byleth’s hand in the process, standing so close that their shoulders brush together.

For a while, they're able to enjoy the stars in the peace of each other’s company, before they decide to retire for the evening. That doesn't stop them from taking the long way back to their quarters, admiring the monastery in the moonlight.

On their walk back, Edelgard can't help but turn her gaze towards the stairs leading to the cemetery, feeling an ache pierce her chest and her ring finger starting to burn again. She lowers her gaze and clenches her jaw, trying to push down the emotions again.

That guilt rings in the back of her mind for the rest of the walk.

* * *

After a long fit of restlessness when Edelgard tries to sleep, she decides she needs out of her room and out of the confines of walls. All night, those feelings of guilt stopped her from being able to fall asleep, eating at her and being impossible to be rid of.

Covering herself with a long robe to shield against the nightly breeze, Edelgard makes her way out of her quarters and steps outside. She doesn't have a particular destination in mind, only seeking the comfort of the stars and the fresh air, yet her feet seem to be leading her someplace. The breeze rustles her hair, and Edelgard runs a hand through her hair, pulling it out of her face and letting it fall behind her shoulders.

It isn't long before she realizes her subconscious is leading her towards the cemetery, and soon enough, she spots the gravestone from atop the stairs. She draws in a breath and begins her descent, slowly lowering herself one step at a time to reach the gravestone on the far right.

Once she's in front of the grave, Edelgard stares at the engravings on the large stone.

_ Jeralt Eisner _

_ ?? - 1180 _

_ Resting in the warm embrace of cherished memories. _

Edelgard suddenly averts her gaze, swallowing dryly as a feeling of regret washes over her. She spins the ring on her finger, keeping her eyes low, plastered on the grass in front of the grave.

She stands still as the moments go by, held back by that shame.

“I don't know if I deserve to wear this ring upon my finger.”

The quiet confession comes after a long silence, her voice weak, her throat hoarse.

“Not a day goes by when I don't regret what happened that day. What happened to you,” Edelgard whispers, still unable to bring herself to look at the grave.

“I aligned myself with the same people who took your life. I laid the foundation that allowed them access into the monastery. I was the one who led them to you,” she shakes her head, her voice cracking and the emotions sleeping through.

“I gave those people the power and opportunity to kill you, and yet here I am, standing in front of you, unable to even bring myself to look at you as I wear your very ring upon my hand,” Edelgard swallows again. “I don’t doubt it for a second that my audacity to wear this ring would come as an offense to your departed soul.”

Letting out a shaky breath, Edelgard sinks to her knees in front of the grave, keeping her head low. “This ring burns my skin—burns with the regret and remorse of my actions. I wonder— was my alliance with those who slither in the dark truly a necessity? I stand here mere days before I am about to throw myself into the fight against the very people I allied myself with to accomplish my goals. Surely, if I believe myself to be stronger than those soon to become my enemy, did I ever need them as allies in the first place?”

“I like to tell myself that yes, I did need them. When I embarked on this campaign five years ago… I was but a child, thrown headlong into my destiny, into an element I had yet to truly grow into, even if I was hardened beyond my years. I tell myself I needed the help— I needed the _ experience _ that they provided me with if I had any sliver of hope of realizing my ambitions. I fear my childish recklessness might have damned my campaign at the start were it not for their help. But even then… I still feel that regret for simply _ daring _to join forces with people as despicable as them, even when I tell myself that the end result was worth the sacrifice.”

“I despise how you were caught in the crossfire. I despise how this all feels like my fault. I despise how my actions hurt you _ and _ your daughter, and yet— and yet I'm so _ bold _ as to wear this ring, and pretend as if I'm deserving of forgiveness, much less your daughter’s _ love_–”

Edelgard chokes out a heavy, burdened sigh. She can feel her throat grow raw from strain, only exacerbated by the threat of tears that sting at her eyes.

“I fear I have not even learned any better for myself, because I stand here in front of you, _ daring _ to ask for forgiveness out of my own selfishness, to ease my guilt and feelings of remorse,” Edelgard squeezes her eyes shut, those tears clinging to her eyelashes. “I am so _ sorry _ for my involvement in what came to pass. I am so _ sorry _ that I took you away from your daughter so soon, and I am so _ sorry _ that I am begging for your forgiveness, to feel worthy of your daughter’s love, to feel worthy of bearing your ring upon my finger. I’m so sorry…”

“I promise… I will prove myself worthy of this ring,” Edelgard lifts her head, finally bringing herself to look at the gravestone. “I promise to rid the world of those who slither in the dark, and I promise I will never leave your daughter’s side throughout the whole battle… I may not be what you envisioned for your daughter, but I promise that I will continue to love her just as I have for the last five years, until the day I can no longer draw breath. I… I hope that, one day, I can atone for what I've done to you… I only want to be what's best for your daughter, and to be someone who you'd approve of…”

It should be a ridiculous concept that _ the _ Emperor kneels at the base of her betrothed’s father’s grave, begging for forgiveness and approval— she never desires approval from _ anyone. _And yet, when it comes to Jeralt, Edelgard wants nothing more than to be someone worthy of his approval, for her Byleth’s sake.

She's rattled from her soft cries by the feeling of a hand on her shoulder, and Edelgard shivers in her skin, and the thought crosses her mind for a moment that she's being visited by Jeralt’s ghost, miraculously being granted his forgiveness and approval the mere second she asks for it. But when she turns to see who's with her, she only sees Byleth’s concerned eyes bearing into her own.

Edelgard quickly goes to wipe the tears from her cheeks, sniffling and regaining her composure. “My teacher, what are you doing awake? We have a long day of victory festivities tomorrow— you should be well-rested for the day to come.”

“You know I can say the same thing to you, right?” Byleth shoots back, though her dry quip is betrayed by that concern shining in her eyes.

Edelgard shakes her head with a wry smile. “I feel like we’ve had this exact conversation before,” she pauses, her smile fading. “I’m sorry. That was hypocritical of me to ask.”

Byleth just frowns, and she kneels down next to Edelgard, moving her hand to wrap her arm around her back. “What were you and Dad talking about?”

The way Byleth makes it sound as if Jeralt was still here to talk back makes Edelgard smile at first from how sweet it is, but that smile vanishes when she remembers that will never be a reality. “There… There was a lot I needed to say.”

“If you'd rather it be something that stays between you and him, that's fine,” Byleth says, blinking.

“No, you should know as well,” Edelgard lets out a soft breath. “I don't want our very first day as one to be marred by secrecy.”

Byleth doesn't say anything in return, but she situated herself more comfortably beside Edelgard, and wraps her arm tighter around her.

Edelgard leans into Byleth’s touch and closes her eyes. She spins the ring around her finger, hyperaware of its presence. “It means a lot to me that you gave me a ring that is so important to you. I was… I was just afraid that I wasn't deserving enough to wear something of his.”

“His only condition was that I gave it to someone who I loved,” Byleth says. “There is no one else more deserving of it than you.”

A smile crosses Edelgard’s lips, and she opens her eyes to gaze sadly at the gravestone in front of her. “I am doubtful that someone with his blood on their hands deserves to wear his ring on that same, bloody finger.”

“El…”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I ruined your thoughtful, loving gesture with my guilt,” Edelgard whispers. “I came here to ask for forgiveness. I felt the need to… prove that I was worthy, despite what I had done. I didn't want to do a dishonor to him by wearing a ring I didn't deserve…”

“You were not the one who drove the dagger into his skin,” Byleth says with a firm voice. “His blood is not on your hands.”

“But I was the one who provided the opportunity–”

“El,” Byleth interrupts. “It is not your sin to bear. You helped avenge him, and you will continue to rid the world of the group who took him from me. There is nothing that needs to be forgiven.”

Edelgard’s lips part, and she searches for some sort of refusal, and yet she cannot find any grounds of which to protest. She locks her jaw and nods, though she keeps her gaze off of Byleth.

Byleth notices Edelgard’s reluctance, and she pulls Edelgard closer into her side. “You know, if he were still here, I would be more afraid of _ you _ not liking _ him_, not the other way around.”

Edelgard furrows her eyebrows at Byleth, confused. “Is that so? He was an admirable captain and knight. I don’t see any problem.”

Byleth flashes a grin. “I’m not talking about ‘Captain Jeralt.’ I’m talking about my _ dad_, the person.”

“Ah,” Edelgard nods slowly, still a little lost. “…And the difference between the two being…?”

“He's a man of few words. He'd much rather fish than hold a conversation,” Byleth recalls. “Although— he might have protested a little if he found out you couldn't fish. Even then, he'd only hold off the wedding until he could teach you himself. Then you'd be worthy, in his eyes.”

Edelgard laughs softly. “I guess I'm not worthy, then. I don’t know a thing about fishing.”

Byleth shakes her head. “But, El… In truth, he would approve of you. He never trusted Rhea, and he never followed the Church of Seiros. He would be proud of the new future that you've created.”

“That _ we've _ created,” Edelgard corrects.

“Semantics,” Byleth says dismissively.

Edelgard feels a grin return to her lips, though there's still something stopping her smile from reaching her eyes. “Do you really think he'd find me worthy?” she asks, her voice quiet— vulnerable, even.

“Without a doubt,” Byleth says. “But… I understand if you don't want to wear the ring because of its… baggage.”

“No, my teacher,” Edelgard shakes her head, looking down at the ring on her finger, admiring the design. “It’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. I wouldn't give this up for the world…”

“Then wear it,” Byleth says. “That's all that he would want— for whoever wears it to love me too.”

“And I do,” Edelgard says, feeling a weight lifted off of her chest, and feeling relieved she can finally bring herself to return those words. “I love you deeply, Byleth.”

Byleth smiles, and she pushes herself to her feet. She extends a hand for Edelgard to do the same.

Edelgard looks up at Byleth, returning that very smile and taking her hand, pulling herself to her feet.

“While we’re at it,” Byleth says once she and Edelgard are face-to-face, gesturing towards the gravestone with her free hand, “do you want his name as well? I can only assume I share the same last name as him.”

Edelgard smiles sheepishly and ducks her head, and fond laugh slipping past her lips. “Please, my teacher— I have only just come to terms wearing his _ ring_. I’m not sure if I can so suddenly accept his family name without undergoing the same inner turmoil I just have.”

“Suit yourself,” Byleth shrugs easily, yet her tone carries a twinge of playfulness.

Edelgard continues to smile, and she gives Byleth’s hand a soft squeeze. “Thank you for comforting me,” she says softly. “It helped a great deal.”

“I wouldn't have given you the ring if I didn't think you deserved it,” Byleth says.

“Thank you,” Edelgard steps closer and sets her hand on Byleth’s cheek, running her thumb across her skin, “for everything.”

Byleth nods, a small smile on her face. Edelgard feels her own smile widen, a warmth blossoming in her chest.

“I love you,” Edelgard says in a breathless whisper.

Byleth smiles a little wider. “I love you, too.”

Edelgard laces their hands together, and she hugs Byleth’s arm, resting her head on Byleth’s shoulder as she glances over at Jeralt’s gravestone. “How did you know to find me here?” she asks.

“Luck,” Byleth says. “I came for my own reasons.”

Edelgard looks up at Byleth and blinks. “Oh, is everything okay?”

Byleth nods. “I wanted to tell him you said yes.”

A weightless feeling spreads throughout Edelgard’s body at Byleth’s words, taking her breath away. She focuses her gaze back on the gravestone, a small, fond grin curving her lips.

That guilt she felt before exists only at the very back of her mind, with Byleth’s words helping push away that guilt. However, even with that guilt starting to fade, Edelgard still wishes to hold true to the promises she made to Jeralt.

Later, when Byleth squeezes her hand and pulls her away so they can retire for the night, Edelgard notices how the ring on her finger doesn't burn anymore.


End file.
